


Raincheck

by msgenevieve



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Post-episode fic, season four, spoilers for 401
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msgenevieve/pseuds/msgenevieve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s a man who’s always seized his opportunities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raincheck

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry, I just had to. Contains spoilers for 4.01 and dialogue that was not written by me.

~*~

 

The problem with trying to seize the day, Killian Jones thinks, is that there are only so many hours in the day available to be seized.

Particularly when you’re trying to seize them with the woman you love.

Particularly if you’re in Storybrooke.

Oh, and particularly if the aforementioned woman happens to be the Saviour.

So yes, he thinks as they run full pelt across the asphalt car park (he can’t help but notice that they’re perfectly in synch, at least physically) chasing an unseen but apparently sleety opponent, perhaps today will not be the day.

This theory is confirmed a moment later as he stares at the two story high ice beast, Emma’s gasp of dismay ringing in his ears.  “Well, that’s something new.”

Emma takes a step back, her shoulder firm against his. “Holy crap.”

“I concur.”   He glances quickly behind them, but there’s no sound of running footsteps of anyone else who might be coming to their aid.  “Perhaps we should wait for back up.”

Emma stares at the beast, which is swaying on the spot, glaring at them from its dark, empty eye sockets.  “You assume it wants to hurt us.”

“Well, you can hardly blame me, love.”

She sucks in a deep breath, and lowers her weapon, her hands spread wide in supplication.  “We don’t want to pick a fight.”

He wraps his hand around her arm, barely restraining the urge to pick her up and physically remove her from the battlefield. “Swan.”

She doesn’t shake off his touch, but neither does she yield to his unspoken warning to retreat. “I just want to see what it wants.”

The words have barely left her lips when they discover that what the creature apparently wants is to send them flying through the air.  

“Bloody hell!”  He swears under his breath as his feet leave the ground, the icy wind blasting him backwards, Emma flailing only inches away from him.  It happens in the space of a heartbeat, but his arms are around her and they’re falling.  He hits the ground hard, his spine rattling, the breath knocked out of him by the soft, warm weight of Emma’s body. 

The creature bellows at them once more, but advances no further, and he glances down at the most appealing sight of a breathless Emma Swan sprawled on top of him, her lovely breasts pressed against his stomach and her legs tangled with his.   “You know, I’ve imagined this moment many times, Swan,” he manages to choke out, “but I have to say, my version never once involved a disgruntled audience that meant to do us in.”

“Seriously?” She puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes herself upwards, wriggling against him, and he grits his teeth, because he learned a long time ago that adrenaline and desire make excellent bedfellows and care not a whit for bad timing. “At a time like this?”

“I’m afraid so.” Scrambling to his feet, he pushes her towards the metal door out of the alleyway. “A man’s got to seize his opportunities wherever he can, love.”

“Well, seize them later!” She tosses the words over her shoulder as she pushes open the flimsy metal door.

“You can count on it,” he tells her shapely back as he follows her lead (he always does) then they’re running together, the wind icy at their back and the roar of the beast making the air tremble around them. 

It’s just another day in Storybrooke, and as they run headlong into the panicked townsfolk, he sees the same sense of déjà vu in Emma’s eyes.  She’s the Saviour and there’s pressing work to be done, and no time left over for heartfelt discussions, it seems.

Beside him, Emma is breathless but calm as she watches the beast continue its journey through the streets. “It’s headed for the forest,” she murmurs, and he has no doubt they’re about to embark on yet another adventure that involves tramping through the woods.

No, there’s no chance of seizing the day today.  Then again, he thinks as she gives him a long look, her eyes glittering with the same adrenaline that’s surging through his own veins, there’s always tomorrow.

 

~*~


End file.
